Posthumous Part of the Scene
by cybersyd42
Summary: When Zelenka is injured during a mission, he gets a unique perspective on Atlantis' lead team. One off, set in Season Two. COMPLETE


_Author's Notes: no warnings, no ships, no spoilers. Set in the latter half of season two. I don't use a beta, so any mistakes are my own. Reviews are always appreciated. Zelenka is injured during a mission, and gets a unique perspective on Atlantis' top team._

Posthumous Part of the Scene

Having spent three days in the company of all four members of Atlantis' lead team, Radek still does not understand how the group functions.

Sheppard seems relaxed - _too­ _relaxed, more so than any of the other military who live in the halls of Atlantis. He throws quips at the confused Fedanians, and lounges against walls, and eyes up pretty native women not caring who sees. He flirts, openly, ignoring McKay's mutters or Teyla's frown.

Ronon says nothing. He lurks, standing close to Teyla with a fixed expression of boredom, like a cynical teenager. He seems uninterested in anything the Fedanians have to offer, in their local customs or constant questions.

If Ronon is a teenager, then McKay is eight years old, bouncing from one ruin to another like the ball in a pinball machine. He talks to himself, loudly and persistently, and ignorant of who is listening. He clutches a scanner in one hand while the other gesticulates wildly, snap-pop snap-popping frantically. He is loud, obnoxious, and irritatingly arrogant, paying no heed to any disapproving look or scowl.

Teyla plays the role of diplomat, but spends most of her time apologising for the actions of the others. At first her pleasantries seem warm, her expressions of interest genuine, but the constant piping of the Fedanians, their endless offers of syrupy snacks and strange, intimate petting begins to grate. Now her smile is brittle, her apologies automatic, and she seems to need all her concentration to ignore the elderly woman who stands beside her and strokes her hair, cooing softly.

They barely speak to each other. Sheppard talks to a blonde with blue eyes and long legs, skin flashing through folds of white linen. Teyla entertains three children sat by her feet with tales of her homeland, and answers the interjections from adult Fedanians with decreasing patience. McKay talks to the scanner, to the ruins, and occasionally to Zelenka, but it is more a bouncing of ideas, a rat-tat-tat of knowledge and theories Radek cannot interrupt.

Ronon does not talk at all.

Somehow - and Radek is never sure how - negotiations take place. The Fedanians are happy to trade, wheat and water reeds for fruit, vegetables, and a small amount of the syrupy sweets. They are less keen to discuss exploration, but offers of more wheat, more reeds, and medical aid sways them and buys a week of uninterrupted excavations around the ruins.

McKay is excited, as is Radek. What the Fedanians once worshipped as the fallen temple of a god, the scientists recognise as an Ancient outpost, promising new knowledge and possibly a ZPM. They both know that whatever they find will likely be damaged beyond repair, depleted or destroyed, but there is still hope, still potential. Sheppard yawns and shrugs, deliberately taunting McKay with his nonchalance, but he agrees, and feeds the information back to Atlantis.

Radek and Rodney make plans on the way to the Stargate. Rodney fumbles through his staff list and Radek clarifies the names, colleagues chosen for their expertise and experience. They are all geniuses, though not to the same dizzying, alien heights that McKay claims as his own, but they lack off-world experience and nerves are a problem. Zelenka has his own fears, his own tendency to flinch at every loud noise, but they are weaknesses he is trying to overcome. On Fedan it seems easy. The people, though nauseatingly friendly, are honest and naïve, and eager to please their guests. The weather is warm, but not hot, the breeze refreshing. Trees grow thick and lush here, and pretty spring flowers carpet the ground and cause McKay to snuffle and complain about allergies.

Later, in the darkness of a cave, the Colonel's uniform streaked with blood that is not his, he will hear Sheppard mutter, he should have known it couldn't be easy.

They are less than a mile from the 'gate when Ronon stops, so suddenly Radek almost walks into him.

"We're being followed."

Sheppard stops instantly, as does Teyla, although it takes McKay several seconds and an elbow in the ribs before he follows.

The Satedan moves, slowly, his body taut. He moves like a cat, like a tiger, predatory and feral, and it makes Zelenka shiver.

"I don't hear anything," McKay says. He has the sense to keep his voice to a whisper.

"No," Sheppard agrees, but he does not seem to share McKay's optimism. His gun is drawn, and he turns without moving his feet, rotating soundlessly on his hips. "No birds, no wind."

Ronon grunts.

A second later Zelenka is lying on the floor and his mouth is full of dirt. He turns his head but keeps his body still, watching as Teyla moves her hand from his back and rises, gun held tight. Above his head Radek can hear weapons fire, the sound of bullets hard and harsh, and the sound of something else - soft, whistling - cutting close. He spits out grass and sees McKay, crouching, the Canadian clutching a gun and staring wildly out at something Radek cannot see.

"What…" is all Radek manages, before Sheppard, from behind him, interrupts.

"They're between us and the 'gate. We need to move. Radek, get up, but keep low, understood?"

He nods, then realises Sheppard is not in a position to see his response. "Understood."

Sheppard nods, grim and tight faced. This is not the man Zelenka had watched trail laughter over the pretty face of a stunning woman, not the relaxed, lazy slouch of the man propped up against a tree trunk, skimming stones off the surface of the lake. Sheppard is hard, angular, and more frightening than Radek would ever have imagined.

Teyla is the same. She drops a hand and guides Radek in behind her, without once turning her gaze from the surrounding landscape. She leans into her own shadow, moving like silk, both deadly and alluring.

Ronon simply _is_ dangerous.

The barrage of arrows has stopped, without hitting their mark. The team move through the grass quickly; Teyla in the lead, Ronon and Sheppard at the back, sheltering the two scientists. Zelenka sees McKay's hand gripped around his gun. Although his fingers are white, his hold does not shake.

"How many?" Sheppard asks, tersely.

"Saw four." Ronon grunts softly. "There's more."

"At least another two," Teyla adds.

"But they've stopped firing." McKay's voice isn't quite a whisper - more like a hiss, as though he can't bring down his voice. "Did we get them?"

"I hit one," Ronon says, matter-of-factly. He makes no sound as he runs. Zelenka feels like an elephant beside the Satedan and the Athosian, loud and blundering and heavy.

"They're on the move," Sheppard says. He turns his head as he runs, scanning the horizon. "They might outnumber us but they can't match us for firepower and they know it. So they'll use our one weakness."

Radek feels lost, and is ashamed to admit it. "I do not understand." His words are breathless, and he can feel the hard earth beneath his feet as he runs.

"We've only one way out," Sheppard explains. "They'll get between us and the 'gate. We've got to get there…"

"Colonel!" McKay suddenly cries out.

This time Radek needs no elbow in his back to force him down. He drops to the ground, fumbling for his own weapon, thinking why, why didn't he get it out sooner? The metal is cold and smooth under his fingers.

Above him, Ronon's gun fires once. A scream, short and staccato, carries across the air.

"Move!" Sheppard yells, and Radek pushes himself to his feet. The arrows are flying again, but intermittently, and he realises the archers are having to fire whilst on the move.

Zelenka's elbow jostles McKay's. The Canadian is looking straight ahead, and seems desperate, and a little scared - but not terrified, which is how Radek feels. He is breathless from more than the running, and he can feel the way his legs move, the way his muscles pull, the feel of the pack on his shoulders, the way the grass whips at his calves.

He had been through the training sessions, fired a weapon at a paper target, but nothing like this - an explosion in his ear as McKay pulls the trigger, the feel of wind against his face, the whistling sound of arrows passing over his head, the chaotic way he twists and weaves amongst the grass, caught up in the centre of the team, following Teyla's lead.

There is another scream. Sheppard looks grim but doesn't flinch, and Radek has to look away, turning his head from the gun in Sheppard's hands and the movement in the tree-line as a body falls from above. He looks away to see a dazzle of red from Ronon's weapon.

Trees surround them, trees and bushes and two gaps - where they have been, and where they are going, to the DHD and the Stargate and home. Now even Zelenka can see them - shadowy figures moving behind leaves, and he realises, they're getting closer. He sees three on Ronon's side, sees a face - dark hair and streaked skin, a small but lithe body. He sees something angular, held in the alien's hands, but when Radek turns his head he realises Ronon is looking elsewhere. The Satedan's head is turned away, so Radek can only see the edge of his left ear and a mass of dreadlocks and _oh…_

He steps forward. There are pebbles beneath his feet.

His chest connects with Ronon's shoulder but it is like hitting rock. He hears the alien grunt and move away, taking away Radek's support. Falling, Zelenka tries to put out his hands but it's too quick, and he hits the earth and…

The sky is blue. Radek stares up at the clouds and tries to breathe, but someone is kneeling on his chest and it's difficult, too difficult. He tries to raise his hands but his body is unresponsive.

"Radek!"

"Colonel!"

"I know - McKay…"

A face looms over him. Rodney is white as a sheet, and his eyes are wide. As blue as the sky, Radek thinks, and draws in a breath. Maybe McKay is the one sat on him?

"Radek. Oh, god, Radek…"

Again he tries to lift his hands. Pale fingers flutter over his head - _his own_ - and a hand grabs them, pushes them down.

"Don't." Rodney lifts his head and looks up. "Ronon?"

Something warm pushes in behind Radek's shoulders, someone's arms. The weight on his chest increases dramatically, to the point where he thinks he can't breathe, to the point where he's gasping as the warmth pulls him in close. The sky moves and he catches sight of trees and grass, then something dark looming toward him. His face is suddenly pressed against it - dark and soft and smelling strongly of something he can't identify, but it isn't unpleasant. He rolls his head away, and realises he's now up off the ground, clutched in someone's arms - not McKay's or Sheppard's so the dark cloth must be Ronon - and he's moving and his chest…

The slender shaft of an arrow is sticking out of his chest. On the left, and several ribs down, and there is blood on his uniform.

_I liked this planet_, Radek thinks, and faints.

* * *

"This is a bad idea. I'm sure Carson would say this is a bad idea. I mean, shouldn't we, um, y'know, leave it in there to stop…"

"Tip's poisoned. Got to stop it from spreading. Besides, I can't carry him with it still in there. Better to take it out."

"Oh, right, I forgot, you're the expert in ripping things out of your body regardless of the damage done."

"Doctor McKay…"

"Ronon's right."

"But now?"

"I'm sure Radek would rather we do this while he's unconscious."

But I'm not, Radek thinks, and confused, tries to open his eyes…

_Pain._

He screams.

* * *

He is half-propped up on something soft, warm, but awkwardly shaped, like a badly stuffed couch. And it moves - rising, falling, rising beneath him. Hot air brushes his cheek in time with the movement - someone breathing, he thinks, and the next sound he hears answers who.

"I should never have let him out of the lab. What the hell was I thinking?"

"This is not your fault, Rodney."

"I didn't need him here! He should have stayed on Atlantis and I could have fed the information back to him. Hell, there's enough that needs doing in the city, but he saw the images the MALP sent back and Elizabeth was there when he asked and I should have put my foot down!"

"That would not have been fair."

"I don't care! Teyla, I…"

The voice falters, pauses.

"I think he's awake." McKay moves, jostling Zelenka gently as the Czech leans against him. "Radek?"

He opens his eyes.

Dim daylight illuminates a dark space. He is, as he thought, held half-upright against McKay's chest, although he can only see McKay's legs, and one arm, wrapped around his midriff. Teyla crouches in front of them, an open first aid kit beside her. She smiles when she sees he is awake, bright and warm and beautiful.

"Doctor Zelenka. How are you feeling?"

"How do you think he's feeling?" McKay snaps. The words beat against Radek's cheek. "Radek, you idiot, what are you trying to prove?"

He moves, trying to get away from the intimacy of McKay's lap, and fails, embarrassingly. Optimistically Radek decides that Rodney is even less likely to spread word of this arrangement to the rest of Atlantis than he is, and he gives up, resigning himself to using McKay as a human beanbag.

His chest hurts. The pain is sharp and white and powerful, while the rest of him feels weak and lethargic.

"Radek?" McKay repeats, concern in his voice.

"They shot me," he says, surprised.

"Do not worry." Teyla gives him another bright smile. "We are safe here, and Atlantis will send help soon."

McKay shifts beneath him, but says nothing.

"Here." Dark, elegant hands reach out to him, holding thick bandages. Teyla slips the cloth around his arm, and reaches behind him to pull them tight. The movement jostles his wound and Radek can't stop himself from crying out.

Again McKay moves. "This is typical of you. Always trying to take my place, even out on the field, thinking you can be a hero."

Radek swallows tightly, his throat dry, struggling not to concentrate on - _oh, god, that - it _hurts_, and should stop _now_, oh g-_

"I was not aware…" _gasp and swallow and stop,_ "that was your position," he says. "Colonel Sheppard, Ronon…," another gasp, "and you, Teyla - heroes, yes, but I always thought of you as R-Robin, McKay."

The air beside his ear huffs. "I'm Xavier, and you know it."

He wants to throw up, _his heartbeat is thundering wildly in his ears and Teyla is still pulling and there are spots in his vision and -_

"The b-brains?" His gaze falls over Teyla's shoulder, to where Ronon exchanges conversation with Sheppard by a patch of sunlight. "Then Wolverine…"

McKay snorts. "No prizes for that one. Sheppard would be Cyclops, of course, and Teyla…"

The Athosian sits back on her heels. The minute her hands leave Radek's chest the pain starts to diminish - not to a bearable level, but one he can objectify, distance himself from. "Doctor McKay?"

"Rogue?" McKay says, questioningly.

Radek considers the Athosian, seeing tight concern in her eyes. He takes another breath, and finds, to his relief, that it is easier. "Storm?" he offers.

She crinkles her forehead. "I don't understand."

"Remind me of this conversation next time it's movie night," Rodney says. "Ford showed you Star Trek - let us introduce you to Marvel."

He stops. Radek is aware of the air dipping in temperature, feels McKay tense beneath him. Teyla dips her gaze, then lifts her head and, looking Radek right in the eye, reaches out and squeezes his right hand.

"Rest. We will not be here long."

Then she rises, moving to where Sheppard and Ronon stand, leaving him with McKay.

There is silence, but only for a moment. Inevitable, with Rodney behind him.

"This is the last time you're going through the 'gate. I can't even trust you not to be stupid enough to get yourself shot."

Radek studiously ignores the bandages wrapped around his chest and starts to study their surroundings. They are in a cave. The entrance is higher up, and through a narrow tunnel which allows limited light. It opens up to where he and McKay sit, the ceiling high and the floor sandy and uneven.

"I shouldn't have expected you to think about me. I've got enough work of my own without covering for you while you get pampered by Carson's nurses. We're understaffed as it is, but you have to go and make my life more difficult."

"It was not my intention to get shot, Rodney," he objects, quietly.

If McKay hears him then he is ignored. "Don't think this will get you out of anything. I'm already making a list of every job for you to do when you're back at work."

Radek's gaze drops down to his chest. The bandages are white, but he can see light, red spotting on the new cloth. His jacket has been sliced into, and the material that is left is marked with blotches of deep brown, a pattern that appears on McKay's pant legs and the ground beneath them.

The world greys out, sound reduced to a loud, static fuzz. The blood is mine, he thinks, and there is so much of it, and it does not matter how bright or beautiful Teyla's smile is, he cannot hide from the truth.

Rodney is still talking behind him. Radek closes his eyes, knowing McKay cannot see, and asks: "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Rodney asks, sounding surprised and worried.

"I remember someone firing arrows at us. We were walking to the 'gate."

"Well in case you can't tell from our five star surroundings, we never got there. We're not sure who it was - ignorant locals, probably, thinking we're evil demons, god knows - stupid idiots. We want to use science to save their sorry asses from the Wraith and all they can do is rant about how we're insulting their gods and desecrating their temples, when actually they're busy worshipping a plumber's workshop!"

Zelenka struggles to follow McKay's speech, but he picks up the important parts. "They were locals?"

"Didn't I just say that? They fired a few arrows, we fired back."

He tries to think back, and remembers seeing movement in the trees, and the broad shoulder of the Satedan above him, blocking out the sun. "They were aiming for Ronon."

"Oh, well," McKay says, dripping sarcasm, "that's alright then. As long as they were aiming for one of my _other_ friends."

"We could not get to the 'gate."

"No. You were unconscious, we couldn't contact Atlantis, so we headed for cover. Luckily the locals aren't able to fire arrows at the same time as trying to run after us, so we got to the hills without being followed."

"And now?"

"Now we wait until Atlantis notices we're missing, and sends Lorne and his goons after us."

"How long?" he asks, having lost all sense of time, not knowing how much has passed since he first fell in the field of grass.

"Not long," McKay says. His voice is brittle and forced, but Radek cannot bring himself to protest. He feels exhausted, drawn into the darkness behind his eyelids, the pain in his chest worsening.

And there is something, something important he is forgetting, something said earlier, before…

"Poison?" He swallows, with difficulty. "I remember…"

There is a pause before McKay answers, so long Radek starts to think he imagined speaking.

"Ronon got the arrow out before it had chance to dump everything into your bloodstream. We've got it covered."

_Liar, liar, LIAR_, Zelenka wants to scream.

"You okay?"

He feels a bubble of laughter in his chest, and squashes it. "I am tired," he admits. "It hurts, sitting like this."

"Sorry." McKay starts to move, awkwardly, pulling up his legs and pushing a hand into Zelenka's back.

Radek cannot restrain a gasp at the sensation, the burn spiking, his eyes flashing open.

The body beneath him freezes. "Sorry, sorry," Rodney apologises, sounding frantic.

"No," Radek manages, though his tongue feels heavy, and the pain in his chest is now a band around his lungs. "Just - quickly."

"Right." McKay starts to move again, and this time Radek manages to stay quiet whilst the Canadian manhandles him into a horizontal position. The hardness of the ground is softened by Ronon's coat, and his own pack supports his head. McKay picks up a military-style jacket off the floor and drapes it over Zelenka's chest, Radek feeling ridiculously grateful at the way the clothing effectively hides his wound.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you." He closes his eyes again, his head feeling heavy, his arms aching.

"Just, ah, rest. And yell if you need anything."

Radek considers pointing out that he is incapable of raising his voice above a thin whisper, let alone yelling, but he doesn't. He listens to Rodney talk, and wonders at the strange set of circumstances that led him to appreciate the scientist's strident voice.

"You know, I used to have a pile of old Marvel comics. The classics. The X-Men, Spiderman, the Fantastic Four. They'd be worth a fortune now. My sister cut them all up as revenge for me killing her goldfish. I told her it was an accident but she didn't believe me. How was I to know that ammonia would have that effect, all I was trying to do was invent a self-cleaning tank, and you'd think she'd thank me for the effort but…"

Eleven years old, Radek and a friend had 'liberated' a colony of tadpoles from a local pond and brought them home. The wriggling black dots had been grouped into two parties, one to go home with the friend, one to return with Radek, to find a home in an empty barrel once used for storing water. Radek's own tadpoles had thrived, grown into tiny, perfectly formed frogs and disappeared into the undergrowth after a matter of weeks. But he had spent a day torn up with guilt when learning his friend had not been so wise, and the remaining half of the tadpoles had met a tragic death after being housed in an old washing bowl.

Detergent, Radek knew, lingered.

"Zelenka? You listening?"

He nodded, thinking of dark spaces and McKay's broken voice, pleading for release in the shadows of the infirmary. Rumours of mind control and accidental exposure to hallucinogens abounded, with the entire city wondering what had become of the three other members of the lead Atlantis team. Curiosity led him to hack into the infirmary security cameras, but the sound of a short, truncated scream had been enough for Radek to hit the standby button.

"Didn't think much of the movie, despite that - whatever she was called, the redhead. Not usually my type, but I'd make an exception in her case. I think someone has a download. I'd watch it when we get back, but of course I'll be too busy picking up your slack…"

In the minute of peace before the panic, Zelenka had heard Carson's voice. The Scot was talking of meaningless stories, of gossip and titbits Rodney would ordinarily hold no interest in.

Carson's voice had been hoarse, and hollow, and in the dark only Radek had heard it break.

He closes his eyes. Rodney continues to talk.

"Mary Jane in the movie - wouldn't kick her out of bed. Hmm, maybe I should branch out into redheads, what do you think?"

* * *

He wakes to darkness and voices.

"How much longer?"

"Five hours."

"Five hours! You think he can last…"

"Rodney, we're _all_ leaving."

"But…"

"All of us, McKay. Go get some rest. Reinforcements will be here before you know it."

There is a scuffling sound, and then silence. Radek can hear his own breath, shallow and strained. His chest feels heavy, and aches in a way that makes his fillings hurt.

He opens his eyes. Sheppard is crouched beside him, in Teyla's place, but the Colonel is looking away, to something Radek cannot see. He is tense, his back rigid, his shoulders knotted.

When Radek tries to clear his throat, it is like swallowing sawdust, and he coughs. The cough turns into something nasty and ugly, a harsh hacking that makes his body convulse with effort, the pain sharp and white and the world hissing in his ears and turning grey and…

Radek passes out.

* * *

Again he is nestled against something warm, but this time the body is slender, and the arm wrapped around his stomach is tanned and clearly feminine.

He licks his lips, and whispers: "Teyla."

"Radek." She sounds pleased. "How do you feel?"

"Tired." He pauses, examining himself in a distracted way, as an observer. "It hurts less," he says, surprised.

"That is good," she says, in a way that tells him no, that isn't good, that isn't good at all. "Are you thirsty?"

He nods, his head lolling, thinking of what his family back home would say if they could see him now. Wrapped in the arms of a beautiful, if unattainable woman. His older brother had been the tall, handsome one. Radek was small, quiet, restrained, winning women with intelligence and great effort. He had peaked, majestically, in university, before his glasses had thickened and his hair had thinned.

"Radek?"

Teyla. Her voice ghosts soft in his ear, bringing him back to the here and now.

"Yes?"

"I will have to move you."

He nods again, feeling oddly pliant and loose limbed. Teyla moves behind him, with more grace than Rodney, helping him rest against the wall. She drags a pack across the floor and pulls out a bottle, pressing it into his grip. His hand shakes as he lifts it, liquid splashing, until she wraps her fingers around his and helps him lift it to his lips.

Water dribbles into his mouth. He takes care to swallow, clear and cool against copper and dust. When he has finished she screws the lid back on, and puts it away, talking as she does.

"Ronon has gone to scout the path to the Stargate. It does not seem that the Fedanians were able to track us, but Colonel Sheppard wishes to be sure."

And how long, Radek wonders, before the natives realise the team has gone to ground, how long before they start to check all hiding holes and refuges?

"Rodney believes he may have found a way to shield us from their view."

This wakes him, causes him to try and straighten, to try and seek out McKay in the gloom. He listens, hard, and realises he can hear scuffled movements, and familiar mumbled cursing.

"Where?"

"This cave contains Ancient technology. It appears to have once been a storeroom. Most of what remains lies in pieces, but there are some devices which appear useful."

"A cloaking device?" he asks, wonderingly. The cloaks on the jumpers were barely understood, even after months of study, and to find a portable version was a development the scientists had long hoped for.

"Doctor McKay believes so. He is trying to repair its power source."

He acts on autopilot, the tips of his fingers scraping against the rocky floor. His body refuses to move despite his efforts. "He will need help."

"No I don't," comes a voice from the darkness, irritable and angry. "I'm quite capable of doing this myself - genius here - so keep your sticky beak out, Zelenka."

He frowns, frustrated at McKay's dismissal, at the way his own body betrays him, at the promise of technology dangled beyond his suddenly short reach. "Let me see."

Teyla takes one of his hands, her skin startlingly hot against him. "The object is built into the wall of the cave," she explains. "And the space is rather small."

"Hah!" the darkness snorts, and Radek hears a trace of nervousness in McKay's voice. "Try Lilliputian."

Again he tries to move, but the effort costs him a powerful, shattering cough, and it is only Teyla, easing herself behind him once more, that keeps him upright. She rubs the back of his hand with her thumb, and he watches the movement as he catches his breath, feeling mesmerized.

"Rodney is very possessive over his work," Teyla says, softly. "He reminds me of my mother's brother."

He feels light-headed, and a little stupid, asking: "He was a scientist?"

"A farmer. But he was a perfectionist. He would not settle for the night unless his fields were sown in an exact pattern, and he would not allow anyone to help with the harvest of his crop for fear they might miss some hidden fruit."

He can no longer see her face, but he knows she is smiling.

"When the seasons changed, and my uncle was forced to hire labour, he would berate them constantly, even though they were friends and family. When I was ten years old I worked beside him, bringing in wheat for the autumn, and he would watch over my every movement, checking each patch of ground after me."

Radek can tell she treasures the memory, and after she has shared it with him so freely, he has no choice but to treasure it with her. He thinks of hazy, late summer afternoons, and the shimmer of gold against the bright blue sky, and a young Teyla Emmagan, her skin tanned deep by the sun, shadowed by the figure of an uncle who could make her smile.

"After the harvest was over," she continues, her voice a soothing lilt, "he would share everything he had grown with the rest of our people. He would celebrate with those who had worked alongside him, and over winter he was the most peaceable man I have ever known. But when spring came, his mood would change, and he would return to berating every helper, snapping at anyone who came too close."

"McKay is like that the entire year round," Radek points out. He closes his eyes, still lost in Teyla's past, a memory untouched by Wraith, pain or loss. His head sinks back against her chest, too heavy to lift. "He has no winter season."

Again he senses her smiling, and feels her hand squeeze his. "I admit, Rodney's moods are a little more unpredictable than my uncle's."

"He is predictable," Radek says, then pauses to take a breath, pushing the words out through his mouth on a sigh. "A predictable constant."

"He will hear you," she teases, and adds: "but I think you know that."

His mouth twitches in a smile, but it is all he can manage. The pain in his chest is back, and he is driven to take quicker breaths, hearing a wheeze behind each one. He longs for fields of sunshine, and white clouds. "Tell me… about Athos."

Her thumb is back, rubbing the skin on the back of his hand gently. "There is a plant whose fruit is so black it can stain skin purple, and the colour will not wash off for many days. My friend had a younger brother, and when we were children we caught him while he was sleeping, and stained all his face. But the fruit dyed our hands as well, and I spent an entire day trying to hide from my mother so she would not find out what I had done."

He smiles, thinking of marker pens and student pranks. He wants to tell Teyla of the time he and a friend coloured the class mice bright green, or when he deliberately triggered a fellow student's physics project too early, and left the boy with hair stuck in spikes all over his head.

But Teyla continues to talk, and her voice hides his breathlessness, and the distant cursing of McKay, and the darkness of the cave. So he says nothing, and listens.

"Two weeks later, when his skin had finally returned to a normal shade, Jyan trapped his sister and I in the corner of a cliff, and he threw Ketelu pods at us. Ketelu pollen is bright orange, and very sticky. Our clothes were ruined, and my hair was so matted with the pollen that my mother chopped it short. I cried for days…"

* * *

"… of course, McKay thinks he can fix anything, and there's no arguing with him."

The sky is coloured grey, and is uneven, and full of shadows. It takes him a full minute before Radek realises he's lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. It takes another minute before he remembers _why_ the ceiling is made of stone.

He turns his head, looking to the right. Sheppard is perched awkwardly on a rock, eating an MRE. The Colonel is looking away, to where Ronon stands, towering above them both.

"You want me to check on him?" the Satedan rumbles.

"If you want him to rant about unwanted interruptions." Sheppard glances to his right, but Radek cannot see that far, even with his glasses. "Yeah," he says, in a quieter voice. "It's only a matter of time before the locals catch up with us, and if McKay can give us a little longer to hide out, then all the better."

Ronon nods. Its like a rocky mountain shifting. Then his gaze turns to Radek, and looks him in the eyes, deep and unfathomable. "He's awake."

Sheppard turns, putting the MRE down. He leans over Radek, a lop-sided grin on his face. "Hey doc'."

Radek stares at him dumbly, his mouth dry, his body unwilling to obey any commands. Sheppard's face creases with worry, and Radek feels a hand take his and squeeze, firmly.

"Doc'? You with me?"

He manages to will his jaw open but instead of speaking finds his chest rebelling, forcing him to suck in a harsh, raspy breath. A mistake. He coughs, but unlike last time there is no pain, just the panicky feeling of being unable to draw in air, any air, of his ribcage refusing to release his lungs and his throat swallowing spasmodically for oxygen that isn't there. His vision turns to grey, then blacks out entirely, and his world is reduced to confusing limited sensations - pressure on his chest and slender strength around his midriff and across his back, warmth against his forehead, and the hideous sound of his own suffocation.

Lack of oxygen to the brain, he thinks, hysterically.

Then something hard smacks him across his back and throws him forward, dislodging the weight from his chest and sending it bubbling up through his throat and open mouth, hot and liquid. He gasps, again and again, ribs heaving, his entire body shaking violently. The air is cold and crisp against his teeth.

"What's happening!"

"It's okay, McKay."

"It doesn't sound like it!"

"I got it. Go back to work." The Colonel's voice drops in volume. "Radek? Come on, doc', open your eyes. You're worrying Rodney."

He forces himself to obey, and finds the world has tilted sharply. He's hunched forward, his body sagging against Sheppard's arms. There is blood splattered across the ground in front of him.

"Radek?"

He can't speak, but he manages to make his head dip a tiny fraction, enough to elicit a sigh of relief from Sheppard.

They sit like that for a long while, Radek held in Sheppard's arms, wheezing, his thoughts muddled and confused. Sheppard says nothing, just gives him small, gentle pats on the back that repeat over and over. He is skinny and angular, less of a comfortable armchair than McKay, but Zelenka can feel his strength despite the way his own body shakes and shudders, betraying him.

It is this quiet strength which shows Radek that out of all four - despite McKay's skills, Teyla's speed, Ronon's force - it is Sheppard who is the most dangerous.

After the storm, the rumoured numbers of enemy dead fluctuated insanely. Sixty, a hundred, two hundred, more. Zelenka had come upon the soldier standing alone in the gateroom, at a time only insomniacs haunted, and the dark space in the Colonel's eyes told him that whatever the number, it was too high.

Radek has never had cause to feel intimidated by him - unlike Ronon - but he knows if he did, something very, very terrible would have had to have gone wrong.

"You okay to sit up?"

He dips his head again, listening to the way his breath seems to rattle wetly in his chest. He can no longer feel his legs, and his fingers are tingling.

Sheppard very slowly moves his arms so he brings Radek up straighter, then back, resting against him.

"I'm glad you're awake," the Colonel tells him. His voice vibrates along Radek's cheek. "You're missing the fun, doc'. Rodney thinks he's found the greatest new toy, but he can't fix it."

The shadows of the cave swear loudly, and in a Canadian accent.

"His patience ran out a while back," Sheppard sums up.

Radek says nothing. The world is fuzzy, floating shapes and distorted grey.

"Teyla's keeping watch outside. Seems we found a pretty good hiding place in here. It's cosy. I'm thinking of putting up curtains."

They will be found. Sheppard is a good liar, but Zelenka isn't naïve. McKay will be unable to fix the cloak, the Fedanians will find them before Atlantis calls in, and they will be outnumbered, even with guns against poisoned arrows.

They could run…

They will not run. Radek knows this, sees it in the space in Sheppard's eyes, hears it in McKay's curses. To suggest it would be a waste of breath.

He tries, anyway.

"You should…"

He's not sure whether Sheppard hears his whisper, or simply reads his mind. With the Colonel, he can never be sure.

"Don't see the point in leaving. Think I might set up a home here. Move a couple of rocks, slap some paint on the walls - sure, indoor plumbing might be a problem but…"

He almost feels sorry for the enemy. They have never faced Colonel John Sheppard, backed into a corner.

"Colonel!"

McKay is loud, eager, but distorted, like hearing through sand. Radek feels Sheppard tense, and the movement sends a shudder through his own body.

"I wouldn't say it takes a genius to get this heap of useless antique junk into some sort of working order - I'll just say that it's a good thing you've got one on your team."

"It works?" Ronon growls, from the darkness. His voice is tinny.

Radek closes his eyes, his head sinking back against Sheppard's shoulder.

"Yes. I think. The power level fluctuates but I've tried to stabilise it using the coil of the scanner. It isn't designed to take this much energy but…"

"Why don't we try?" The Satedan's voice flickers in volume, like a broken speaker.

"Sure." Sarcasm. "Why didn't I…"

* * *

Elizabeth Weir is different to every other manager Zelenka has worked beneath.

He read her file. Met her several times in Antarctica, during 'getting to know you' sessions resented by himself and McKay as forced torture by the Powers That Be. He now suspects the meetings were Elizabeth's own idea, and realises that despite McKay's infectious cynicism, they weren't as bad as he remembered them.

She was a diplomat. Radek was naïve, couldn't grasp why a diplomat was appointed as head of a science expedition. The idea of meeting alien life was too remote, too obscure.

But he now knows differently. He now knows how _good_ a diplomat she is.

It is this term which suits her better. A diplomat, not a manager, although technically to the science staff it is the manager role that she fills. Negotiating between science and the military, between Atlantis and Earth, between McKay and just about everybody. She cares, deeply, but keeps this hidden, behind folded hands and a steady voice.

Radek wakes to her voice, and finds it comforting.

"_And it was unprovoked?"_

"Completely, Elizabeth. McKay kept his mouth shut and everything. But they're pretty pissed about something and we could use a hand."

Sheppard. Zelenka frowns. The Colonel's words are clipped and curt, and leave Radek feeling worried, but he doesn't know why.

"_Lorne's team are on their way, Colonel."_

"Tell the Major we'll be glad to see him. McKay's got us hidden pretty well but he's not sure how long it will last." Sheppard pauses. "Tell Carson to have a medical team standing by."

The ceiling is grey. Radek stares at it.

"_Colonel?"_

"Radek was hit. We think the arrow was poisoned."

Oh, Radek thinks.

He swallows copper, and closes his eyes.

* * *

Radek is cold. Something is hitting his body, his legs and arms and back and head, hard. There will be bruises, he thinks, but he can't move, can't open his eyes, can't do anything but feel blow after blow while he struggles to work out up from down.

"Keep him still!"

"Hold his head, Ronon, so he does not hurt himself."

"Oh crap, oh crap…"

"Just stay with the machine, McKay…"

"We need Carson…"

"He's not here."

"I know that!"

"Doctor McKay, this is not helping. Ronon…"

"I got him."

"It isn't stopping. I knew I hated this damn planet for…"

* * *

Ronon's face looms over his own. This is important.

"You good?"

He stares at the Satedan, who frowns, briefly, and grunts.

"Better," Ronon surmises. He moves back, lifting his hands from Radek's wrists. "You freaked out."

He doesn't remember.

Ronon seems to decide Zelenka is conscious, despite his inability to respond. "McKay's got the cloak up and running. Sheppard's keeping watch. Teyla's gone to get the kit." He nods, abruptly. "For your shoulder."

Radek looks down. His head is supported by something soft. There is a bandage wrapped around his chest.

Ronon squints, and looks uncomfortable. "Atlantis is sending help."

He doesn't reply. He stares at his chest. He is bleeding, heavily.

"I've seen worse," Ronon volunteers. "Got shot by an arrow. Two. One in the leg, one in the chest." He pauses. "Hurts."

Radek thinks, on reflection, this may be an understatement.

"Anyway…" Ronon grunts, again. "Thanks." He sits back on his haunches, considering Radek with narrowed, dark eyes.

He is supposed to say something, Radek realises, but he isn't sure what, and the way Ronon is staring at him bothers him. He thinks of words, and what they should mean.

Suddenly Ronon freezes, his head turning sharply to the right. A voice shouts through the dark, a warning. Something in the air changes. There is a bang, then two.

Gunfire.

"Sheppard!"

Ronon gets to his feet in one move, and disappears.

Zelenka stares at the ceiling.

Somebody screams.

He thinks, _I'm dying_.

* * *

"Radek!"

McKay has appeared, kneeling beside him, gun drawn. The Canadian is pale faced, and looks scared.

"Can't the Ancients build one damn thing that works right? What's the point of coming to another galaxy only to find technology that blows up just when we need it?" Rodney looks downwards quickly, meeting Radek's gaze. "Are you alr - ah, hell, stupid question, just, ah…"

Something loud explodes above them. McKay turns white and suddenly bends down low over Radek, casting him in shadow.

"Oh, great, arrows and Molotov cocktails, perfect! Colonel!"

There is a burst of gunfire. Something rattles through the air and again McKay ducks. He's sweating, and panting heavily.

Radek frowns. He licks his lips, with little effect, and says: "It's cold."

He doesn't recognise the sound that comes out of his mouth, but Rodney seems to, because the scientist's face tightens.

"No, no, now is really not the time, Radek…" The Canadian casts his gaze to the left, and picks up something grey and soft. "Here." He places it, awkwardly, across Zelenka's chest. "Just hold on, alright?"

There is more gunfire. Rodney flinches, but doesn't move from his position beside Radek.

"It would be really, really good if Lorne could turn up right now," Rodney mutters.

Radek frowns, because he doesn't understand, and passes out.

* * *

Four figures cluster around him, their faces illuminated by firelight, their shadows cast, distorted, on the cave wall.

Ronon, large, imposing, blood running from a cut above his left eye. He is grinning, flashing teeth, wild eyed and frightening.

Teyla, lithe and strong, stood on the balls of her feet. She looks determined, concentrating, moving slightly as though stirred by the wind.

McKay, shoulders hunched. He seems both angry and apprehensive, his Adam's apple bobbing. His feet are flat against the floor, and do not move.

Sheppard, gun drawn. His eyes are dark, his face unreadable. A terrifying spectre in military grey.

Radek thinks, he must be in the safest place in two galaxies.

_Irony_.

His fingers twitch. He can't breathe.

It's just the beginning.

* * *

"Hold on, Radek. We are nearly home."

"Ronon…"

"I got him."

"He's doing it again! Carson!"

"Alright, Rodney… oh, lord… keep him still…"

"_Do_ something…"

* * *

"I thought I might find you out here."

Carson moves from the light of the corridor to the darkness of the balcony. The door shuts behind him, silently. Radek hears the Scot hover - Beckett is not a quiet person, he thinks - then take up position beside him.

Radek shifts the chair slightly to allow Carson room, his hands gripping the wheels tightly.

"I often wonder what we'd do if Atlantis was still underwater. Find somewhere else to stand, I suppose." The Scot takes a deep breath, then exhales, with obvious pleasure. "Reminds me of home. Not where my mum lives now - housing estate, pleasant enough, of course, but not really open air. Not like where we used to live when my dad was alive. Little village, surrounded by hills, nothing for miles except sheep. Rained a lot."

"It was raining before," Radek says, quietly. A slow, miserable drizzle, running down the glass of Atlantis. The clouds lingered, hid the stars from view.

"Aye, that it was." Carson shifts his weight between both feet. "You alright, Radek? You've been out here for a while."

"I needed space." He pauses, feeling guilty.

Carson seems to understand. "The infirmary is a little crowded. I could order them out."

"No." Radek folds his hands across his lap and stares at them. His fingers are long, and still too pale. "They seem to be enjoying themselves."

"Rodney might disagree with you. Last I saw, Teyla and Ronon were taking him for everything he had. The man has no poker face."

There is silence, before Zelenka blurts out, rushed: "I do not know why they stay there. They do not have to."

Beckett frowns. "They're a little concerned over you, Radek. You gave them a scare they'll not soon be forgetting. But neither will you, I think."

He shudders. The movement pulls on his wrapped shoulder, and he swallows a moan. It is not enough to hide from Carson.

"Radek?"

"Just… one moment." He gasps, hoarsely, and waits for the tightness in his chest to subside, for the pain to fade. It does, after several seconds, but it is enough to have Carson's hands on the handles of the 'chair.

"I'll take you back."

"Not yet." He uncoils, relaxing back into his seat. "It is not bad."

"Radek!" Carson says, sounding astonished. "That poison was potent. If Ronon hadn't acted as quickly as he had…"

"But he did," Radek shoots back, too quickly. "And I will be fine, yes? Back to work in a week, as Rodney keeps reminding me."

"Light duty only," Carson reminds him, but his voice sounds weak, and without sincerity.

Radek lifts his hands an inch off his lap, and watches them shake. He knows Beckett is watching him.

"I heard Sheppard say, it was too close. McKay has decided to never let me off world again." It becomes too much of an effort to keep his hands raised, and he drops them back to the blanket, feeling exhausted.

"That depends on you." Beckett's hand rests on his shoulder, gently. "If you want to talk, Radek."

He is not sure he wants to. He is not sure that Rodney is right, that he should never be let off world again, he is not sure that it would bother him. He is not sure that he does not want to leave Pegasus for Earth.

Carson continues to talk. "I realise I haven't been through the same - you'd have to speak to Colonel Sheppard or McKay for that, since I'm ready to name their own infirmary beds - but I do know what it felt like during the storm, when the Genii invaded, or during the Wraith siege. Of course, we all read the reports from the SGC before we came here, but it doesn't seem real until you live through something similar." He stops. "I'm not doing this very well."

"Carson," Radek says, quietly.

"Point is, I was frightened - I'll admit it, terrified - and the thought of returning to Earth seemed mighty appealing - still does, sometimes, more times than I'd like to admit, but…"

"Carson," Radek repeats. The Scot stops, and looks at him. He takes several shallow breaths, and considers his words before speaking. "What I remember is… confusing, more than anything. Because of that I am… _unsure_ of what to feel."

"You weren't scared?" Beckett asks.

Radek has considered the question, long and hard, whilst watching his IV bag empty and the heart monitor flicker. "No," he says.

"Then you've stumped me. Good lord, man, you'd be forgiven for being terrified…"

"But I was not." He pauses, staring at his lap. He will not mention that in the muted light of the evening, he can still feel Teyla's thumb rubbing the back of his hand. That he sees Ronon's shadow in every doorway, when the Satedan lingers, uncomfortable and hulking. When he is not really there at all. He will not admit to the way he finds reassurance and peace in McKay's babble, or safety in Sheppard's hard shoulders as the Colonel lounges in a chair, feet on the bed.

He dreams of four shadows on the wall of a cave, and sleeps easily.

"There was no need," he says. It is an explanation, but not one he expects Carson to understand.

He is not sure what he will say when asked to go through the 'gate again. He isn't sure he can make that decision until then.

"Well…" Carson says, and then stops, at an apparent loss for words.

Radek shivers. The temperature is not low, the night air balmy and heavy, but he still finds himself unable to shake the cold. Carson has told him it is a side-effect. He doesn't believe him, but knows it will pass, so stops himself from a contradiction.

"Perhaps it is time to go in," he says.

Carson's hands are already on the wheelchair handles, steering him forward, then around. The door opens before them. "Well, I can't fathom it, Radek, I admit." The Scot pushes the chair through the doorway, back into the city. "But I'm always here to listen."

Radek nods, says, gratefully: "Thank you, Carson."

The corridor between the balcony and the infirmary is short, and the sounds from within carry through the Atlantean doors. Rodney's voice is the loudest, high-pitched in protest. Teyla's voice is low and warm, like a stream, interrupted by Sheppard's amused interjections.

Ronon, of course, is silent.

"I'll send them to their beds," Carson offers.

The door to the infirmary opens in time for Radek to hear clearly the sound of cards being thrown across the room, and McKay's annoyed: "Oh, very mature, Colonel! You could have had my eye out!"

"Not yet," Radek says.

Carson grumbles, "they'll keep all the patients awake," but since Radek knows he is currently the only one, it isn't a complaint he takes seriously.

He lifts one hand to rub, absent-mindedly, at the bandages beneath his gown.

A pillow flies across the room. "Learn to duck, McKay!"

"Bloody hell." Carson growls, loudly and pointedly.

"Doctor Beckett." Teyla, sitting on a bed, smiles serenely. Next to her Sheppard looks guilty, and, on a chair beside them, McKay puts on his best aggrieved expression.

"He started it," the Canadian pouts, pointing a finger.

Beckett bends low, and whispers in Zelenka's ear. "You've chosen the oddest security blanket, Radek."

Radek stills. "Carson?"

The Scot pats him on the shoulder. "Works for me, too."

* * *


End file.
